Perception
by Bligy
Summary: Ciel was not innocent, his hands were stained red, but his soul remained the most sterling white a demon could ask for, and what was a demon if not opportunistic. Sebastian/Ciel
1. Chapter 1

**Perception**

**A Sebastian/Ciel Story**

**Written by Bligy**

..

**Disclaimer:** S'not mine, if it were, there'd probably be a LOT more innuendo and a little less wtf right now in the series.

**Summary:** Ciel was not innocent, his hands were stained red, but his soul remained the most sterling white a demon could ask for, and what was a demon if not opportunistic. Sebastian/Ciel

**Pairings:** Sebastian/Ciel; probably a lot more, most of them involving Ciel.

**Rated:** Mature (I can't really write lemons, so… non-detailed mature?)

**Warnings:** It's a Kuroshitsuji fanfiction, which is kinda self-explanatory XP. Shota; Minor; Rape; Murder; Violence; Crack etc.

**Author's Note:** Erm… kinda love Kuroshitsuji, but I have a MAJOR pet-peeve with every piece of fanfiction I've been reading lately. All of them have Ciel as some sort of blushing virgin who's never so much as _thought_ of sex before.

Has… no one _watched_ or _read_ the series before writing fanfiction? Did no one _see_ the scenes of the poor kid being gang-raped while chained to the ground? As this was seriously starting to bother me, I decided to write my own. I don't really know whether this is a one shot or a continuing thing, that'll depend on people and what my lovely and always-awesome beta says. *finger waves at epic beta* YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

..

The cage he was in was poisonous, the reek of his unwashed, uncared for body beyond suffocating. The rags he was wearing had been on his body for weeks now, only being changed when they were so worn that they no longer resembled cloth, let alone proper coverings. He had had almost five changes in the time he'd been there.

The stench wasn't as harsh as it had been a mere week ago, but… many of his fellow children had disappeared in that time. He didn't know whether they were alive or dead, merely that they were… not there. Not that it mattered, they were all broken – had _allowed_ themselves to be broken.

He would not break, he would not cry… not again; he would be free. He would be free and he would see it that every darkened face that taunted him, every putrid hand that saw itself worthy to touch his body would be removed and shoved down the throat of its owner… and he would be _alive_ to see it all happen.

"_Die,_" he hissed again as a hand reached into his cage to remove him for the hundredth time.

"He still has some fight in him, yet!" the man reaching for him howled in amusement as the captive attempted to scuttle away, but his ankle was caught and he was dragged from the box cursing and scratching at his captors.

"The Phantomhive, aye?" one of the many shadowed faces around him asked.

They all came in masks, their voices muffled and snickering, some sounded like nobles while others sounded like they came straight from Whitechapel.

"He's the last one, right?"

They were talking like he wasn't there, like he wasn't listening, like their hands weren't currently groping around his body to check that he had enough flesh on him. They'd tried to feed him well, although he'd denied most of it – attempting to give it to the other captives – but lately he'd regained weight in his lonely little cage. After all, if he didn't eat it willingly, they'd shove it down his throat, and he had a bit more pride than to have them _feed_ him.

He felt familiar shackles latch around his wrists and he felt his body steel against the contact. He struggled a bit more against the arms holding him, but didn't as much as whimper.

"First one to make him scream gets an extra reward," one of the men chortled to the others, who guffawed in return.

Today the men were upper-class. Their English wasn't skewed or rhyming. He hated it more when he knew precisely what they were saying – it made it harder to ignore them.

Those cold hands dragged over his flesh quickly enough and he found himself lifted off the ground and being carried over someone's shoulder to the room with a draft. His skin crawled like a hand trailed down his spine. The room with a draft was worse than any of the others… the room with a draft meant…

His restraints were stretched taught until he was spread out across the floor, his legs wide and his arms helpless to defend himself. Those brutal hands tugged at his meager coverings for a few seconds before they gave and his backside was exposed to the room.

He heard huffs of air, gasps and eager exclamations that he tuned out. He had no wish to hear his captors as they… as they…

There was a rise of heat at his back and the breathy grunts of one of the men grew closer. A hand trapped itself in his hair and yanked his head back. He winced, but made no sounds – refusing them that right.

"Stubborn little bitch… let's test him out, then, huh?" the man at his back taunted before plunging his teeth into the young boy's neck.

Another wince, but no sounds later brought the frustrated tormentor to another attempt. One of the boy's nipples was brutally twisted, causing a harsh pant, followed by a clenching of teeth when dry fingers plunged into his anus.

The boy felt every muscle in his body clench in protest against the forced entry and he forced his head forward, tugging his own hair in an attempt to distract himself from the brutal punishment his body was no-doubt about to receive.

"That's right, you whore… take it!" the man screamed moments before the boy's body was pierced and his spine cried in pain.

This was far from the first time it had happened and he was aware that the procedure would become a lot smoother when his body had bled enough to lubricate the activity.

Still, he didn't make a sound.

The man, apparently distracted with the body beneath him, allowed the child's hair to be released and used both grubby fists to hold onto slim hips in an effort to rock harder. This was fine, as the boy was now able to press his forehead against the ground to allow a bit more connection to reality.

"_Ciel Phantomhive."_

The boy flinched at the calling of his name and at the smooth texture of a glove running down his back. As the glove travelled further, the thrusts of the bastard into his ass slowed to a gritty, overwhelmingly-painful grind that bit at his mind and drove him further into insanity.

He almost broke… almost cried out, pleaded for the torment to end, but remembered himself at the last moment and bit his tongue instead.

"_Very well done, young Master…"_

_Master?_ Blue eyes opened against a blindfold and, for the first time in the lifetime that he'd been there, he attempted to look around to locate the person calling him. He could see very little beneath the blindfold, only a few different tuxes and occasionally the flash of one of the gentlemen's hair… but they weren't moving, weren't calling out… there was only one thing in the entire room that appeared to have motion, and that was gloved hand currently reaching for his face.

Ciel struggled against his restraints uselessly as he observed that unfamiliar appendage reaching for his body. True, he'd been touched by hundreds of men – he had no doubts – but he never enjoyed it, and he would never give in to it without a fight.

"_I've been watching you… your will is fascinating."_

The hand touched his hair and instant warmth spread through him from that point of contact. He could have sobbed from the feel of it. It was like his mother's hugs and his father's smile, falling asleep in his parent's bed during a thunderstorm or eating a forest cake made by Tanaka all at once. It was like every wonderful memory he'd ever had, or ever _would_ have all at once.

"_So hungry… do you want help, little Master?"_

The hand continued down his body, seeming to heal his flesh as he went, filling him with that warmth every place it touched. He barely heard the words as it moved, panting uselessly against the peace he felt, but at the same time, the pain of the man still embedded within him.

"_I could remove this… "_

The hand paused at the torn entrance to his body, grasping around the man's cock and rubbing his fingers lightly over his own bleeding flesh. A new type of warmth filled him, one that made his cheeks burn and his body hiss with liquid fire. He couldn't breath for a moment and barely heard himself let out mewls of displeasure when the hand left and all that remained was an empty, aching nothing.

"_All you have to say is yes, Master, and I'll slaughter this room, everyone who has ever harmed you, or ever will. You will never be hurt again."_

Two hands now touched his flesh and he bit his lip to hold back the dual feelings of warm, parental love and bestial, aching lust. Still, as much as his heart was crying out for the saving that this man was offering – his soul was screaming in protest. He couldn't help but agree with his imaginary life-force.

_Nothing is that easy… what would I have to give in return?_ he thought to himself as time seemed to speed up again and the thrusts into his body started to rip agony into his re-warmed body.

"_Ever the son of a businessman, I see… well, young master, all I require is the imaginary life-force that you rejected so cleanly mere moments ago..."_

_Can you read my thoughts?_ Ciel attempted desperately, biting down harder on his lip as his freshly-healed body was ripped anew as the man continued his mad thrusting.

"_Of course… it is only natural for a servant of the Phantomhive family to be able to do such things."_

_You are not my servant._

"_Yet…"_

Ciel choked down a gasp as his rapist reached his completion and he felt warmth flood his body. It burned… it entered into his wounds and festered like acid in his bloodstream. He didn't even know how many countless men's filth he'd taken into himself, but he felt each time, each droplet of liquid was like pure hatred within him. He wished his body would collect a sample from each so that he may categorize and find them again to personally introduce a bullet into their craniums.

"_I could help with that too…"_

The whispering voice was back, as were the gentle hands healing his insides and making him tremble.

_What do you want?_ Ciel demanded as he held in his cries as the next man began to push into him.

"_I would receive your soul upon the successful completion of your mortal goals, whenever that may be… as well as other… luxuries that may be given to me during that time."_

A breathless, soundless shout of pain escaped him as the bastard behind him pushed harder.

"_Think on it, little master."_

All at once, the hands on his back disappeared and the pain was that much worse.

He turned his face so that his arm was hidden in his trapped shoulder as he screamed out his misery.

…

It wasn't until later, much, much later, when he was lying in the pile of rags the bastards who were keeping him mistook for clothing that he really thought upon the voice's offer.

Revenge…

What the voice was offering him was _revenge_, in exchange for nothing but his soul… a feature he was disinclined to believe in regardless.

"Are you there?" he called out to the room, wondering if he really knew what he was doing, whether this was really wise… whether he even cared.

"_I am always here, little master."_

"It's _young_ Master, not little…" Ciel scowled at his addressing.

"You accept then, young Master?" the voice asked, the sound tangible and smooth, directly above him.

He opened his tired, puffy eyes to see a beautiful pale face haloed in black hair and accented by a pair of brown eyes so malicious that he would almost say they were red. He felt something fall on his arm and he turned briefly to see a black feather touch his skin.

"What are you?" Ciel asked in a whisper.

"I will answer any questions you have of me, once we have agreed on a contract between us," the demon stated, leaning forwards and attracting Ciel's attention as the man's unwanted lips came dangerously close to his own. He flinched back and scowled at the smirk that spread over his tormentor's face.

"You will serve me, follow all my demands and see to it that I am perfectly content at all times. Upon the completion of my revenge, I will… allow you to…" Ciel trailed off, watching as the man's eyes glinted from that teasing brown to an almost crimson-red.

"Yes…?" the man goaded, waiting for the rest of the statement.

"You may claim my soul," Ciel finished.

"So you sign the contract?" the man asked, once more getting dangerously close to him, but this time Ciel didn't flinch away. He stared directly into the man's eyes as the came so very, very close and challenged the bastard to close that distance, to see just how deathly serious Ciel was about not wanting people close to him.

"I… I…" despite not believing in it, despite not knowing whether or not his belief was solid… despite not wanting to lose control over himself or his destiny, he knew that he was damned should he stay here. He was already going to hell for the sins committed against his form, even against his will, at this very hellhole that he'd been forced to linger in for majority of the past year.

He _knew_ that this man above him was his best chance at escape, but looking into those crimson eyes that promised him both his deepest wishes and his most painful agonies, he couldn't help but hesitate.

"I…"

The door opened to his room and he turned to head to see men in black entered into his small, ill-protected haven.

"Well?" the man above him asked again with a knowing smirk.

"Pack 'im up, got 'nother 'un!" the brute at the door barked out, and Ciel felt his blood run cold.

"Kill them…" Ciel commanded, hissing the words under his breath.

"Do you sign the contract, young Master?" the man demanded once more.

"I sign the contract. KILL THEM!" Ciel shrieked forcing himself into a sitting position.

"Yes, my lord," the taunting figure above him stated before an inky blackness descended upon the room and the sound of screams echoed in the air.

Ciel had never heard a sound more musical. He howled with uncontrollable laughter as the people were killed, tears streaming down his face as his weakened body struggled to keep him upright.

He was in such a state of hysterics that he didn't even notice the blistering pain that rushed through his right eye moments before his vision went black and a bright, burning lavender seal appeared where there had once been blue.

…


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** S'not mine.

**Author's Note:** Well… my precious beta has still not given me feedback, so I figure I'll just post this next chapter and see what she says. By the way, in her absence, I deeply enjoy reading what everyone _else_ thinks about this story as well. It's amazingly inspirational to hear that one's work is appreciated by others. ~ Bligy

..

Warmth surrounded him. It blanketed his every sense to the point that he was numb to any other motions around him. The slight sway of his body indicated movement, the ashy smell invading his nose hinted at burning, but he could care less, so long as these arms stayed around him.

He hadn't felt this safe, this protected in almost a year… since…

His eyes snapped open to see an empty, burnt out shell of a room. He felt gravity push on him and realized that they were moving up, over the grand staircase – or what had once _been_ the grand staircase – in the main hall of his house.

"Wha...t?" the boy asked as he trembled against the memories that the blackened walls enticed in him. Fear ate at his throat, but he pushed it down. It was just a house. There was no need to fear an empty husk.

"I didn't expect you to wake so early, young Master," the man carrying him said pleasantly, and he tilted his head up to see the chin of his rescuer.

"That was real," Ciel registered in shock, and felt his breath catch when his carrier smirked down at him in amusement.

"Very real," the man assured him, one of the hands carrying him stroking gently over his skin.

"Who are you?" Ciel demanded and struggled a bit, even though he knew he'd miss that warmth once he was put down.

"I am… whoever you wish for me to be," the man assured him, holding him tighter and refusing to let him go.

"Where are you taking me?" Ciel objected and squirmed some more.

"I am taking you to your room. You need to rest, young Master," the man responded instantly, without any fear of Ciel's turning and twisting moods.

"Do you even know where my room is?" Ciel howled, attempting even harder to remove himself from the man's grasps.

"Of course… it is only natural for one who serves the Phantomhive family to know such things," the man continued effortlessly and Ciel stopped struggling with a scowl. It was obvious that this… monster wasn't allowing him his freedom any time soon.

"Why are we here?" Ciel demanded as they veered into the centre of his large home, which was still smoking in some places and creaking in an unwelcome manner.

"It is your home… did you not wish to return here?" his newest servant said without the slightest hint of actually caring about his answer.

"Would it matter?" Ciel grumped in return and the man simply smiled that blank, meaningless smile again.

"Of course, young Master, I will only do what you tell me to," his contracted benefactor stated benevolently.

"Then put me down, I can walk fine on my own," Ciel snapped and was mildly surprised when he was instantly obeyed.

Unsettled, but remarkably happy to be on his own two feet, he quickly righted himself in the house and took the last few steps to what had once been his room. The door was burnt off its hinges, the inferno having decimated the wood to barely a quarter of its original size. Within the room itself, it was unrecognizable as the place in which he'd spent so much of his young life.

He observed how his bed was no longer in existence and how the fire had eaten a hole in the floor somewhere off in the far right corner.

He didn't linger enough to see any more of the chaos, merely stepping back and walking off in another direction… to a room that would haunt his memories until he died.

Like his own room, the door to this one was practically non-existent and he walked right in to see the blackened features of what had once been his father's study. The room was empty, now, his father's body obviously having been found and removed. Rather than studying it more, he turned away and walked back towards his own room and then a little farther past.

With all the chaos of that night, Ciel… couldn't remember if he'd seen his mother after the flames had attacked their abode. He couldn't remember if he'd heard her screaming as she died, couldn't remember if he'd seen her burning up the same way that he'd seen his father… but in the end, it didn't matter. Whether or not he'd been unfortunate enough to see her corpse, she was dead.

He pushed open the door to the master bedroom, and found that, while singed, the vast majority of it was unharmed.

"Oh…" he muttered, surprised that the lush furnishings had escaped the worst of the fire.

"Is something wrong, young Master?" his shadow asked, and Ciel jumped in surprise. Despite hearing the man's steps behind him the entire time, he was still surprised at his new servant's presence.

"Do you have a name?" Ciel deflected in annoyance as he closed the door and stepped back out of the room.

"I will once you give me one," the man said cheerfully and Ciel scowled at him some more.

Turning, Ciel proceeded to examine every room in the entire building, attempting to find anything as intact as his parent's bedroom.

There was no such thing. Every single piece of his former home had been burnt to a cinder, except that one, single room.

"I want you to restore this house," Ciel declared as he stepped briskly out of the front door.

"Is that all?" the man inquired and Ciel felt a little down that the man had registered his other thoughts so easily.

"I want you to find my previous butler, Mr. Tanaka, should he have survived the fire," Ciel continued, staring at the blackened outline of his house. "I also want other servants, a small amount of them, just enough to maintain the house, and to defend it.

"My home will never burn down again, and you will see to it," Ciel declared, turning to look at his servant who was looking at him with both amusement and admiration. The young boy's chin jerked up at the look, as though challenging the bastard to think any less of him for being a child. "Well, don't you have things to do?"

"Yes, my lord," the man bowed lowly and slowly rose back to his full height, eyes still observing him with uncanny amusement.

"What?" Ciel snapped when the creature still didn't move.

"Aren't you going to give me a name, young Master?" the question was asked with such a frivolous air that Ciel was half tempted to just wave it off as insignificant, but instead he narrowed his eyes and _thought_ about it for a few seconds.

"You are to be Sebastian," Ciel declared. "Do you have a family name, or must I supply you with that as well?"

"Sebastian Michaelis, young Master," the man stated with another bow and backed up, as though to leave.

"Wait," Ciel commanded.

"Yes?" the man asked, turning back to look at him.

"What are you?" Ciel asked, his eyes narrowed and his body trembling at the weight of the question. It was obvious that this creature wasn't human, and that alone meant he was dangerous. He wasn't about to be traipsing around with something when he didn't even know _what_ it was.

"I am merely a devilishly good servant, young Master," the man stated, bowing again and leaving off take care of Ciel's requests.

A devil, then… Ciel had promised his soul to a devil. A harsh smirk fell on the child's face as he turned to face his smoldering mansion once more. He could at least rest assured that fire would no longer be something to be intimidated by, as he had no doubts he'd be seeing an eternity of it when his goals were completed.

..

"Master, we should find a hotel for you to stay at in London," Ciel heard and he turned to see his servant bowing at him. The man was covered from head to toe in a mixture of soot and refuse.

Ciel couldn't help but smirk at the man's lacking appearance. "My parents… I mean… I have a townhouse in London. I don't need a hotel," Ciel declared, rising to his feet from where he'd been perched in the waist-high grass all morning, simply reflecting.

"Very well, but if we're going into London, we'll need to get you new clothing," his servant declared, stepping closer to him.

"What are you doing?" Ciel snapped as the man reached for him.

"I will be carrying you there… London is a great many hours away and we have no means with which to send for a hansom and no stables for horses of our own. How else did you think we were going to travel?" Sebastian asked with that infuriating smirk.

"I can walk!" Ciel seethed, rising to his feet and teetering for a moment before he regained his balance. He hadn't eaten since they'd escaped – he didn't even know how long ago that was – and he wasn't wearing proper shoes for walking, but he'd be _damned_ (like he already wasn't), if he'd let another man carry him about like he was some sort of baby.

The man said nothing to his stubbornness, merely followed him as Ciel led the way he'd taken so many times into London. While the trip was about an hour by horse, it was at least three or four by foot. Not even half an hour into their little trek, Ciel felt his knees going rubbery and his head started spinning.

"Are you ill, young Master?" his constant shadow asked with mild concern in his voice.

"I'm _fine_," Ciel bit out, and indeed managed another half an hour before his vision went blank and he fell to the ground.

..

When he regained consciousness again, it was pitch black outside and Ciel found himself nestled into that blessed warmth that had surrounded him earlier.

Woozy against the onslaught of memories, he shifted his head up to see Sebastian staring down at him and could have purred when the man's hand sifted through his hair gently.

"Where are we?" Ciel demanded sleepily.

"We are at a hotel just outside of London," Sebastian stated, and Ciel felt himself drift off into the abyss again. "Rest, young Master."

"Don't… tell me… what to do…" Ciel moaned grumpily before he begrudgingly fell asleep to the musical sound of his servant's amusement.

..

Morning was just touching the horizon when Ciel opened his eyes again and he was shocked and horrified to realize that he was completely naked, alone in an empty, unrecognizable room. Fear rose in him as a swift second and he scrambled desperately, attempting to reach for the fireplace poker to use as a defensive tool.

When the door opened, he swung wildly, hoping to bash his kidnapper's brains open before they would get another chance to hurt him.

He didn't even get the chance to swing completely before the heavy metal was ripped from his fingertips and he was gathered into warm, comforting heat. His body trembled in shock and fear, even as his memories returned to him and his terror ebbed.

"Hush, young Master… you're safe here," Sebastian whispered to him soothingly, passionlessly, like he cared about him as much as one could care for any piece of furniture.

"Let go of me!" Ciel hissed out, and struck out at his servant when the man didn't move instantly. "Get away from me!"

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian said, stepping gracefully to the other side of the room and bowing lowly.

"Why am I without clothes?" Ciel barked in annoyance, shivering now that he no longer had the man's comforting warmth around him.

"I was in the midst of procuring clothing when you awoke, young Master… they are temporary until we are able to get your new wardrobe completed," the man stated, still in his bow.

"Where are these other clothes?" Ciel asked shakily, attempting to stand regally despite his nudity. He refused to be ashamed of his nudity in the company of this man, but even so, in their times, clothing was as important as the skin hidden by it.

"They are on the bed, my lord," Sebastian stated, gesturing to the clothing that Ciel had completely missed in his panic.

"V-very good," Ciel stammered, a bit embarrassed at his own lack of stability, he attempted to fumble into the clothes and failed miserably.

"Do you need help, young Master?" his shadow asked, and Ciel refused to admit that he jumped at the suddenness of the man's voice.

"I do not need your help!" Ciel yelled in frustration and nearly ripped a sleeve in an attempt to get into the clothes.

"Please," the devil insisted, gently taking hold of one of the flailing boy's wrists to still the movements. "Allow me to aid you."

Ciel glared at his captor harshly, but looked away in unhidden misery at his own helplessness in this situation. He hadn't worn anything resembling real clothes in almost a year, and he'd barely dressed himself before that. It wasn't his fault that he scarcely knew what he was doing.

Within seconds, he was in the clothes his servant had brought for him and was ready to face the new day.

"What is it that you wish to accomplish today, young Master?" his servant asked him as he finished attaching the boy's tie in perfect place.

"I wish…" Ciel trailed off, thinking about all the dozens of things that he wished he could do. "I wish to reclaim my name and find Mr. Tanaka."

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian bowed before making his way to the hotel's door and holding it open for his master.

"Have you already created a schedule?" Ciel asked, a little conflicted as he moved slightly towards the door.

"Of course," Sebastian answered instantly, and removed a rather long piece of paper from within his jacket.

Ciel could only stare open-mouthed at his servant as the demon uttered off a full day's list of activities that included both the mundane – obtaining new clothing – to the complicated – reclaiming his name – with specifically allotted times, destinations and contact names. As Sebastian finished, Ciel seemed to realize his staring and snapped his jaw shut, glaring a bit at his own unpreparedness.

"It would appear we'll be busy today, then," Ciel stated with a nod. "Very well, lead the way, Sebastian."

His servant bowed once more and they removed themselves from the hotel and poured into the streets. Ciel wasn't quite sure whether or not he was happy to have the man at his side, but he could assuredly say that he had his uses.


End file.
